


Silk

by impureimpulse



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 07:40:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impureimpulse/pseuds/impureimpulse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-December, Yosuke pays a visit to Namatame.  It's something he needs to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silk

**Author's Note:**

> This started out when I picked up the prompts for the 1sentence challenge on Livejournal, but instead of a single sentence, a whole drabble came out.

The fibers catch on the rough skin of his fingertips as he fingers the smooth cloth in his pocket. A welcome distraction from the monolithic concrete structure he ascends the stairs to, heart hammering in his chest harder then they had before the gates of any other-worldly conjured dungeon.

Tatsumi-san had offered to let him have it the moment he picked it up, the question of why a boy his age would want a peach-colored scarf covered in sakura patterns going unasked. Possibly because she can only assume her son's friends have the same tendencies, or perhaps because of the look on his face as he'd stared at it. He'd thanked her then, but told her “no”. That it was something he _needed to do_ , and she still hadn't questioned him as he counted out the yen notes on Tatsumiya's counter.

_“It was a special order, part of a set. But in the end, she only took the women's scarf.”_

It hadn't meant anything to him then, just another coincidence after their first theories went unproved. It's smoothly cold between his fingertips now, and Yosuke swallows heavily, steeling himself as he enters the reinforced doors and waits for the man behind the desk to double and triple check his references. Minors aren't allowed here, usually, but there's nothing usual about this trip. He's alone now, by his own choice, even if they would have come with him if he'd asked. Shirogane, and Tatsumi both, if he'd been able to ask them, but he couldn't. They'd shared the same thoughts, but neither of them had been as certain.

As _adamant._

_There are some things you can't apologize for._ He didn't come to ask for forgiveness, or to explain himself, even if he knows he'll likely do both in the end. He's come because there's something he understands, at least in part, that none of the others do. It's similar, at least a little. Maybe Saki hadn't shared his feelings, but losing her had hurt him just the same. It always will.

Nothing will ease that, for either of them. But the scrap of cloth in his pocket is a faint echo; it still exists, and since he has nothing else left, Yosuke's sure he ought to have it. He stays focused on that, on his purpose, his reason.

Something he needs to do.

The guard leads him down the halls, and his nerves aren't calm, his heart feels ready to burst, and the walls and bars are so claustrophobic it makes him lightheaded. The buzzer as the door unlocks makes him flinch, and before he can think better of it, the door opens, and he steps through it.

The man sits up, confused, then neutral. Does he even remember? He has to--

And then he smiles, faintly, slowly, and sadder than Yosuke can possibly bear. A few clumsy seconds pass, and he pulls the cloth from his pocket, holding it out to him wordlessly.

“... Hanamura-kun? What is this?”

There are some things you can't apologize for.

But there are always things you need to do.

This is the first, and all he can think of. But it's better than the nothing they share now. As soon as he starts to speak, his voice is going to break, he knows, but he manages it anyway, and it's the first time he's been proud of himself in a long, long time.

“...Hello Namatame-san. I needed to speak to you... I--”

It's pathetic, how quickly he feels tears streaming down his face, but it's alright. He knows now, looking at his face, at the serene expression, and the lack of any amount of hate there. It'll be alright.

_It's something he needs to do._


End file.
